Autumn in Sofia is not just a change in weather.It’s a slow unfolding of magic.
The tall chestnut trees begin to whisper in golden tones, their leaves turning from amber to crimson before the wind gently carries them down — onto sidewalks, benches, shoulders, and memories.People begin to wear heavier clothes.The evenings come earlier.

But the skies… oh, the skies of Sofia —they bloom with impossible colours as day turns to dusk, as if the heavens themselves are painting farewells to summer.

The falling leaves and the painted skies remind me of the fairy tales I once read as a child. They remind me that the real luxury of life is not gold or glass towers —
but this: a walk, a breath, a leaf, a glance at the sky.

Autumn in Sofia is a season of senses.
The first gentle rains fall like blessings on the thirsty earth.
And in return, the soil exhales its perfume — that scent we’ve known since childhood.

That scent of memory.

In the park, children laugh as they leap into beds of leaves. Their joy crackles like the dry leaves beneath their feet.
Nearby, two students sit quietly on a bench, their sweaters matching the tones of the season.
They’re not just watching leaves fall — they’re watching life unfold.
A mother hurries by with a stroller, heading home before the light fades.
The days are shorter now. But the moments…the moments are richer.

I bend down. I pick up a single red leaf.I study its veins, its fire, its edges.
And I realise —Nature owns the finest colour palette.